


Tunnel Vision

by o2doko



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-13
Updated: 2011-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o2doko/pseuds/o2doko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't always easy to see what's right in front of you.  Spoilers for most of the manga.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tunnel Vision

Kurogane watches from a few paces behind as Fai raises the cup of hot cider to his lips, his good eye absently following the trek of the children up ahead before he takes a sip of the warm liquid.  He appears to drink it, though Kurogane knows he doesn’t really; he has no use for food or drink anymore (and the fact that Fai still has not taken blood since they arrived in this world doesn’t worry him now, because they’re past that now, finally past that now) – still, he goes through the emotions.  He wouldn’t offer an explanation if Kurogane asked for one, though of course he doesn’t – but secretly, the ninja supposes he still likes the smell, the act of normalcy.

It’s cold out even beneath the afternoon’s full sunlight, but they’re wrapped warmly in the clothes of this world; Fai wears an almost military style coat with wide buttons and a high collar and a belt that cinches around his slim waist.  His hands are encased in gloves of softest leather, and around his neck is a scarf of grey cashmere.  He wears his hair lose of its ponytail here, to better frame and obscure his strange eyes (one missing, one gold) – and though his smile is easy and quiet again, his good eye is moving, always moving, watching the children, watching the people drifting around them, watching the sky.

The reds and oranges and gold of autumn crunch in a constant rustle beneath Fai’s boot heels, boots mostly hidden beneath the legs of his dark jeans, and something about the sound, something about the smell, something about the way the sunlight is slanting through the trees above and glinting off the golden threads of the mage’s pale hair –

Kurogane reaches out for him, mechanical fingers stiff and awkward beneath his glove, because Fai isn’t really a mage anymore and because he’s close and because a red leaf has alighted on the vampire’s shoulder.  These things make sense to Kurogane, make sense together, and he pulls the leaf away from Fai and crushes it experimentally between his unnecessarily strong fingers.  Fai turns to face him them, lowering his cup and raising an eyebrow as his eye drops to the ninja’s hand.  The children are a ways up away and there’s no one nearby, and Fai’s eye is almost the same color as the leaves waving overhead – waiting to fall, expecting the fall, holding on still.  It makes sense to Kurogane, so he reaches out again, mechanical fingers (his gift, this gift) curling around the lapel of Fai’s coat to pull him closer.  He can’t feel the softness of the mage’s skin in his mechanical fingers when he cups his hand around his neck, anymore than Fai can taste the cider lingering on his lips; there are some things in life that they have to take for granted now.

Everything Kurogane does is deliberate, careful and methodical, and he’s put a great deal of thought lately into just how to tilt his head, just when to nudge the mage’s mouth open wider to touch his tongue lightly against each fang, just when to pull him a little closer.  He smells leather and wool and the crisp aroma of crushed leaves, tastes cider and copper, feels Fai’s lips curve into a smile against his a moment before he pulls away.  There’s  no surprise in the golden eye studying his face, no flush to Kurogane’s cheeks; after all, it just makes sense.

Fai simply smiles at him, smiles and lightly touches the back of his mechanical hand, then turns back towards the children.  They fall into step beside one another and don’t say anything, because they no longer have to. 

After all, even in a life of uncertainties ( _this_ life of uncertainties), there are still some things you can take for granted.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm currently accepting commissions; see my [gig page](http://fiverr.com/users/o2doko/gigs/write-an-original-5000-word-story-in-any-genre) for more information.


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